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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29783592">Alligator Skin Boots</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_gays_that_arent_in_space/pseuds/Space_gays_that_arent_in_space'>Space_gays_that_arent_in_space</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hell On Earth is Right By Your Side [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Homestuck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Kiss, Fist Fights, Heavy Angst, Human Gamzee, Humanstuck, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mentioned Terezi Pyrope, Minor Terezi Pyrope/Karkat Vantas, POV Karkat Vantas, Sad Gamzee, Teen Angst, Trans Karkat Vantas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:35:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,649</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29783592</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_gays_that_arent_in_space/pseuds/Space_gays_that_arent_in_space</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An early memory you have of Gamzee Makara is the very first time you went to church with him. You had to be about ten because at the time your dad had no fucking clue all the shit that was happening in that hellhouse ran by a patriarch straight from Satan’s asshole. You so distinctly remember being at church together because you didn’t go with Gamzee. Sure, his body was there, you were definitely standing beside a ten year old Gamzee Makara body, but a body isn’t just a person. Beside you, as you sat straight back on a wood pew that had nothing for spinal support and listening to a sermon full of words you never have and never will understand, sat an empty husk of a best friend. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak, all he did was stare right ahead as his father screamed about wicked designs and mirthful machinations. Gamzee looked so nervous, you remember. Hands sinking into the suit pants you remember being his brother’s, you were forced into a dress despite the fact that you tried to refuse, but it was refuse or never see Gamzee again, and even at ten you knew that there was something about that threat you just couldn’t take.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dave Strider &amp; Karkat Vantas, Gamzee Makara &amp; Karkat Vantas, Gamzee Makara/Karkat Vantas, Gamzee Makara/Terezi Pyrope, Sollux Captor &amp; Karkat Vantas, Terezi Pyrope &amp; Karkat Vantas, Terezi Pyrope/Karkat Vantas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hell On Earth is Right By Your Side [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2149941</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Alligator Skin Boots</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Shoutout to my good friend Eme who is going to cry when he read the excerpts. Hope you guys enjoy Karkat's entry to this tragic love quadrangle</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>An early memory you have of Gamzee Makara is the very first time you went to church with him. You had to be about ten because at the time your dad had no fucking clue all the shit that was happening in that hellhouse ran by a patriarch straight from Satan’s asshole. You so distinctly remember being at church together because you didn’t go with Gamzee. Sure, his body was there, you were definitely standing beside a ten year old Gamzee Makara body, but a body isn’t just a person. Beside you, as you sat straight back on a wood pew that had nothing for spinal support and listening to a sermon full of words you never have and never will understand, sat an empty husk of a best friend. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak, all he did was stare right ahead as his father screamed about wicked designs and mirthful machinations. Gamzee looked so nervous, you remember. Hands sinking into the suit pants you remember being his brother’s, you were forced into a dress despite the fact that you tried to refuse, but it was refuse or never see Gamzee again, and even at ten you knew that there was something about that threat you just couldn’t take. The stockings against your legs itched and each time you swung your feet you were shot a look that would have killed had you been a little softer or Kurloz Makara been a little older. Gamzee didn’t say a word that whole morning, from 7 to 11am he just stood around the church, drifting in corners and being shown off like a show pony for his father. It was one of the scariest things you’ve ever seen. The next day at school you remember Gamzee telling you that he had to make a quick trip to the dark carnival. To this day you have no fucking clue what he meant, and to this day there is something in you that tells you not to know. 
</p><p>It’s the one thing you fear finding out because you know that if you do it will open up a Pandora’s box of the parts of Gamzee that he chooses to hide from you. You know there are parts that he keeps locked up with greasepaint and banal questions, you know that he hides in the dark for the sake of protecting himself just like you do. 
</p><p>Secrets are something Gamzee keeps with his prayers, they are quiet little scars branded inside of his skin that only slough off if you notice the way parts of him just don’t quite fit. You notice things like this, you have to, you’re his best friend. As much as you hate to admit it, he’s your best friend too. That’s what makes it hard to not notice changes in him, just like it’s hard to not notice changes in Terezi. It’s almost harder to not notice changes in her because you’ve been in love with her since you were twelve years old and over the last six years nothing about that has changed except that maybe you’ve learned you can love other people while loving her, and the two of you have kissed before. Just once, a simple peck on the lips, but it was something good to you. Something that you hold close to your heart because you have nothing else to prove that you’re worthy  of any of her affection. 
</p><p>She’s much too good for a piece of shit like you. 
</p><p>There are changes in both of them that you’ve noticed. Changes that make you wonder if maybe your friends just think you’re an idiot. After all, they have to think that you’re an idiot if the way those two are acting are meant to convey anything except secret keeping. 
</p><p>Changes like Gamzee never being in his favorite janitor’s closet or bathroom or his van when you go to look for him, despite the fact that he’s never anywhere but one of those three places during a school day. Changes like Terezi constantly layering herself up in old sweaters you haven’t seen her wear in years or not wearing her glasses but still chewing on the ends of them. Changes like catching the faintest of whispers from the few friends of yours that survived the fallout that came with Aradia’s passing.
</p><p>Changes like catching the two of them heading into the auditorium together. Gamzee too close for comfort and Terezi shrunk in on herself in a way that made her almost entirely unfamiliar to you. You’d walked to school together earlier in the day and she had been off, she tried to act like she wasn’t but you could see it in her eyes and see it in her lack of jokes at your expense. You don’t know what possessed you to follow her, but you did, and the moment you did you were met with yet another Change. This time it was Gamzee hanging over her like a gnarled tree, his body almost like a shield if not for how bright her hoodie was or how distinctly Terezi her bookbag always has been. Then, he looked at you. He looked at you with those eyes so dark that they feel like staring straight into hell, he didn’t acknowledge you, not really. It was just that in those few seconds he saw you, and he knew you understood, but you didn’t have any evidence. No evidence and not enough balls to chase after them and prove it. 
</p><p>You don’t know how you would. You don’t know what you’d do after proving it. 
</p><p>It’s not like either of them are in relationships, despite the way Gamzee used to pine over Tavros or how “complicated” Terezi’s relationship with Vriska is. You never properly told Terezi that you were-are in love with her. Gamzee knows though. Gamzee knows better than anyone how much you feel for her, and yet he completely disregarded those feelings for the sake of what? The chance to lay with a warm body? 
</p><p>It’s a thought that inspires a bright, blooming kind of rage within you. A rage so intense that you nearly snap your pencil in half, nearly being that the poor pencil is hanging on by a very fine thread of wood. It’s stabbing into the meat of your hand, the pain is distinct and sharp and in your instinctive desire to not get a splinter you end up with about five little ones right in your hand. At lunch Sollux and Dave laugh at you hysterically, like you with a small national park in your hand is something worth laughing at rather than helping you with is something that they need all the fucking time in the world for. You make a scene out of it, and rib at Dave until he stops, you’re mostly glad to see Sollux laugh at something, anything. It’s been too long since you have and you’d rip off your right hand and shove it up your rectum for the opportunity to see him like he was last year, all sly comments and lispy insults and laughter. You watch him for a little bit, watch as he sinks back into whatever this new shell that’s grown over him is. You haven’t told him anything about Gamzee and Terezi, you know that you can’t. It’s so childishly cretinous that he would probably laugh you out of the school for bringing it up to him. Besides, it’s your job to listen to his issues now. 
</p><p>Even if he insists that he’s fine. 
</p><p>Sollux Captor is yet another one of your friends who you can see these sorts of Changes in. Changes that have come about after the death of the girl who he said during multiple slurring speeches, he would marry. The death of a girl who he knew was irreplaceable and loved in a way that you only thought was possible in movies. Sollux Captor is on a road to self destruction the likes of which you have never seen and it’s all you can do as his friend to make sure that you’ll be able to pick up the pieces. That’s why this isn’t the time to tell him, maybe some years down the line it’ll be a funny story, or maybe you’ll never have to mention it at all. You wish that you could tell him, get his input on every little detail and hear what he has to say about your theories. Sollux would make you out to be a fool but would also threaten to jump Gamzee with you if his mood was particularly sour in the right way. He would tell you to quit being such a fucking pussy and confront them on it unless you happen to get off on being cucked. You know all the little quips and teases Sollux could and probably would make, but it’ll never be the same as hearing the real thing. It can’t be. Your mind will never be the real him and the real him needs time to heal. In the meantime, you’ve somehow taken to spending your time with one Dave Strider.
</p><p>You and Dave have no complicated history, in fact, you have the simplest kind of history. Your best friend has a thing for his sister and you share an Egbert as a friend that offers varying amounts of entertainment to you. You barely even talked to him before all of this went down, there was really no reason to, he was himself with his friends and you were yourself. Then John introduced you two and started going out with Vriska, then Aradia died and Vriska and John broke up for reasons that John won’t specify but obviously pertain to the events surrounding said death and Gamzee started acting strange and your other best friend was drowning in so much grief you were worried he would drown and it all just seemed to fall into place. 
</p><p>Dave Strider is a good friend. 
</p><p>Dave is funny and charismatic and smart and creative and you have so much respect for him that lets itself out in the form of long, spiraling insults that you spend minutes crafting for him. He’s a transfer from Texas that’s seemingly known John forever and likes to make you think that he’s known you for just as long despite you not even having been friends for a full year yet. 
</p><p>Dave is picking the splinters out of your hand now, using the tweezers on the swiss army knife he carries around on his keychain like a paranoid bunker kid. 
</p><p>”So Karkles, how’d you end up sitting here in Dr. Strider’s practice without an appointment. You know my secretary doesn’t appreciate walk-ins, even if they are emergencies like yours” Dave’s voice is a concerned sort of smugness, the face he puts on when he’s too cool to be as worried as he is.
</p><p>”It was just some accident with a useless pencil that happened to break on me in the middle of an assignment, nothing extreme.”
</p><p>Sollux looks up from his phone for a second, his eyes a little bigger than you’d like them to be and his lip being worried by his forever fucked up teeth. Dave looks worried too, like he wants to say something but isn’t sure of the audience. You’re glad that he’s aware enough to realize that you don’t need to be dragging Sollux into any of this, you’ll just talk about it later. You meet his gaze with a fierce glare. It’s a promise.
</p><p><i>Later.</i>
</p><p>He nods at you once and Sollux scowls like he wants to say something, he doesn’t though. He’s always doing that now, holding back like what he wants to tell you just isn’t worth it. He didn’t used to, before he’d make a show out of getting you to make him say whatever insult was sitting right on the tip of his tongue to which you would have to respond with an attack as brutal and swift as your friendship has always called for. 
</p><p>You can’t make jokes like that anymore, and that’s okay. 
</p><p>Sollux needs you to take better consideration of his feelings now, and you’re going to be a good friend.
</p><p>Dave keeps pulling the wood out of your hand and at a particularly deep splinter you feel yourself tearing up, fuck. It’s too loud in the cafeteria to hear much of anything that isn’t being shouted directly into your ears and with the way Sollux is acting and how focused Dave is on ripping wood from your hand it seems like no one will be doing any shouting anytime soon. You feel a buzz in your pocket and almost immediately know who it is. 
</p><p class="gamzee"> TC:HeY bRo I wAs JuSt WoNdErInG iF yOu WaNtEd To GeT yOuR hAnG oN lAtEr
</p><p class="gamzee"> TC:ItS bEeN a WhIlE
</p><p>Gamzee has been texting you like this for the last month.
</p><p class="gamzee"> TC: bRo YoU wOnT bElIeVe WhAt I JuSt SaW
</p><p class="gamzee"> TC: a MoThErFuCkEr JuSt GoT hIs GaNdEr On A cAt ThAt GaVe Me ThOsE mOsT nOsTaLgIc ThOuGhTs
</p><p class="gamzee"> TC: [image received]
</p><p class="gamzee"> TC: [image received]
</p><p class="gamzee"> TC: CmOn BrO i KnOw YoU wAnNa LaY yOuR mOtHeRfUcKiNg EyEs AlL uP oN tHiS aDoRaBlE mOtHeRfUcKiNg KiTtY
</p><p class="gamzee"> TC: pLeAsE bRo
</p><p>You refuse to text him back, leaving you with one long wall of text on your phone that makes you wonder if maybe being his best friend is worth looking past the betrayal that you just know is lingering beneath the surface of it all. You don’t think you can. Not now. Not for a very long time. The last time you texted him was offering him somewhere to sleep when he got kicked out by his dad, he stayed with you for about a week until his van was out of the shop for the eight hundredth time, and then he left. 
</p><p>That week that he stayed with you was something good, something special.
</p><p>You miss your best friend. 
</p><p>You miss your best friend and you know that you can’t have him back because he’s turning into someone who you can’t recognize. When you walk home from school you catch him sitting on the front steps waiting, watching out for you and when he catches a glimpse of you it’s like he wants to pounce. He never does though, never can. You make it a point to surround yourself with other friends, look busy or move fast so that by the time he starts standing there’s nothing for his gangly ass to catch up to. Sometimes you see him getting into his brother’s van instead of driving away alone like he should, on those days he doesn’t wait for you on the steps. Instead he moves like he’s trapped in amber, the world has stopped only for him and for a moment he’s just like that little boy who sat next to you on his church pew. 
</p><p>There are so many secrets and so many little stories you know that you have inside of you, and they’re worth nothing now.
</p><p>You want your best friend back more than anything, and yet each time you look at his face all you can imagine is him fucking Terezi. It makes your stomach churn with bile and rage. It makes you feel disgusted with yourself imagining the same look in his eye as when they went into the auditorium together. Each and every time you try to get over it-get over yourself. You think about telling Gamzee about your feelings for her, telling him how you never quite knew how to go about things between the two of you and how badly you wanted to make things work despite the fact that she so clearly had something with Vriska. Every time you try to imagine forgiving Gamzee you think about a rumor you heard that makes your blood boil hot in your veins. You think about him taking her to one of his stupid fucking church functions and apparently dancing with her. 
</p><p>Your phone buzzes again and Dave looks at you. You shake your head and he pulls the last splinter, a big one that turns out to have just a little bit of your blood coating it. Sollux is glaring at you out of the corner of your eye and you shoot him a look.
</p><p>”Hey, KK, I think that I’m gonna take some time and drown myself in the toilets since I have just about as much autonomy as a fucking pet parrot. Text me when you’re ready to stop babysitting, my number is still the same as the one you texted about thirty fucking times this morning.”
</p><p>With that, Sollux grabs his things and goes. You think that you should probably follow after him, you <i>know</i> that Sollux running off alone offers nothing except for problems later, and yet you let him run off anyway. You let him go beat himself bloody with his own problems because right now you all you can think about is your own rage. You can’t focus anymore, not now, not when all there is within you is a sense of agonized betrayal. 
</p><p>”Dude, what’s up?” Dave’s voice cuts clear when he leans in close to you and you nearly flinch.
</p><p>You don’t know why you didn’t expect him to start trying to speak to you the minute Sollux left, not after the kind of dramatics you just displayed with your whole splinter issue, even still here you are, now being given the chance to vent out all of your frustrations with that filthy fucking clown who you miss so much. 
</p><p>”Gamzee and Terezi are together…...I think”
</p><p>”Like dating or some shit?”
</p><p>You can see him resisting the urge to make some sort of shitty metaphor centering around the deep seated inconvenience of your situation and for that you find yourself appreciative of him. You nod.
</p><p>”I saw them going into the auditorium together a few months ago and now, after hearing about the two of them going to one of Gamzee’s stupid fucking church parties I just know that there’s something going on there which is ridiculous considering the fact that Gamzee has <i>known</i> that Terezi and I-”
</p><p>You pause, and you realize that you’ve never actually said out loud that you were in love with Terezi. You also realize that you aren’t sure how to convey it without bursting into loud shouts, screaming from the proverbial rooftops that you are in fact a pile of slime meant for kicking for one Terezi Pyrope. So, instead, you just clear your throat and move forward.
</p><p>”Well, anyways, I’m pretty sure the two of them are doing….something...and now I don’t know what to do.”
</p><p>”The clown stole your girl, huh.”
</p><p>You don’t like the way that he phrases that, and you dislike even more that he’s right. The clown stole your girl right from under your nose, not that Terezi is an object or a prize to be won, but she was someone special to you, and now she’s changed. Of course, everyone has changed since what happened, but her change has been so distinct, and you know it’s because her best friend killed her other best friend. Even if you weren’t outside for it, you were there for the fallout. You were there holding Sollux in your arms as the paramedics fished Aradia out of the water. 
</p><p>You were there holding him at the funeral and you were there at his house when both his uncle and his brother were too busy with whatever the fuck else to make sure that he was safe alone at home at night. 
</p><p>You were so busy being there for Sollux that you didn’t exactly know how to be there for anyone else, and now you don’t quite know what to do about things. 
</p><p>”I guess so.”
</p><p>”Shit dude. That’s…..that’s honestly fucking awful. You told me something about the guy being your best friend, right? A best friend wouldn’t do something like that. Actually, it’s sorta the opposite of best friend behavior.”
</p><p>The way Dave’s vowels draw themselves out is a little intoxicating, at least, it gives him a sense of charisma that makes the way that he’s friends with all of your friends make sense. He’s a charming guy, what can you say? And he is right about what he’s saying, what kind of best friend goes and steals the girl that you’ve cared about for longer than you’ve known you were capable of caring for. 
</p><p>”I know. I know that it is, but I miss him, y'know? Even if he is being a total douche coated in curdled milk and jammed up the asshole of a constipated pig. He’s been my best friend for the last decade, and I don’t know if I can just throw away years of friendship like that.”
</p><p>Dave nods and you can see that he’s really thinking things over. It’s weird, how still and quiet he gets when he’s all contemplative, he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and he waits, like he wants to get a message back from someone. It could be cute if not for the fact that it nearly looks like he isn’t breathing, and then he snaps out of it. 
</p><p>”Karkat, man to man, bro to bro, I think that you should try to talk to him. I mean, he’s your best friend, like you said, and best friends can overcome shit like this. I mean, I overcame that weird time where John was dating my sister, though we were like thirteen and Rose was only dating him out of her own “dark curiosities” but that isn’t the point. The point is that this Gamzee dude is your best bro, and best bros try to solve the problems that they have with each other. You can’t just throw that away.”
</p><p>Your eyes feel a little wet when Dave finishes and you hate yourself for it. You hate that he’s right and you hate that you waited so long to try to talk to Gamzee. 
</p><p>”You’re right.”
</p><p>Even still, you wait. You wait until your study hall and when you know that you have more than five minutes to go try and hunt him down and have a serious conversation with him. Dave isn’t with you for that, but Sollux is. He looks out of it still, his hoodie is yanked up over his head and the shade of burgundy makes you worry that it was something of Aradia’s. You want to ask, and you nearly do, but the look Sollux shoots you is enough to let you know not to say a word. He looks so gone, you need to do something, but you can’t. Instead, you shoot a quick text to Nepeta and pray that she shows up before study hall is over or Sollux is left alone for too long. 
</p><p>It’s wrong, you’re wrong, but sometimes you have to choose the lesser of two evils. 
</p><p>Sollux barely acknowledges your departure. You knew that he wouldn’t and that guilty part of you aches to stay with him and ask for the millionth time what’s wrong even though you know he’ll tell you nothing. You want to say something, reach out to him and tell you that you’re here and you love him and all you want is to help, but when you give him one last look all you see in Sollux’s eye is an emptiness that words can’t fill, and your clock is ticking. 
</p><p>You swear to yourself that you’ll talk to him about it later, before he has a full meltdown.
</p><p>You wander through the halls in search of the telltale signs of Gamzee. You check the overstuffed trash for a Faygo bottle or the air near his favorite bathrooms for the smell of weed. You hope to maybe hear his voice or his laugh, hope that he’s in a good mood and that when he speaks he does that thing where he makes the air feel easy despite how stressed you are. You hope that when you see him he’s your Gamzee, the Gamzee who wouldn’t do the things that he’s done. The Gamzee who makes it so fucking easy to forgive him that it’s funny. You hope and you hope and you hope and while you’re still busy hoping you hear a sound. It’s a laugh, low and scratchy, a laugh that you’ve known for a long  long time, longer than you’ve even been alive. It’s a laugh that should comfort you, you know that it should because it has before, but instead all it does is make you apprehensive. It’s far away, but you know that it’s at the end of the hall, right in the south stairway. You should have texted instead of just trying to find him. You shouldn’t have gone searching round his favorite janitorial closets or bathrooms. You should have asked him to meet you somewhere because you just know that what you will find will do nothing to please you. 
</p><p>The sound of your footsteps are ricocheting in your skull, each step is one closer to the guillotine made out of two of the people you love most. It’s too much to bear, almost, but you’ve never been good at choosing to be ignorant, and you’ve always hated it when people treated you stupider than you were (which is actually not stupid at all). You’re a big boy Karkat, and big boys ready themselves for disappointment.
</p><p>Big boys also happen to be met with the sight of their best friend sinking his yellow mismatched teeth into the neck of the girl who’s always set him on fire in the best and worst kinds of ways. There isn’t anything to say in the moment, not when you see the way her hands sink into his hoodie or how you can see the way one of his hands is playing with the front of her jeans. You have to wonder if this is what they were doing in the auditorium. Probably. Definitely. Absolutely. 
</p><p>Terezi is the one to notice you first this time and she shoves Gamzee off. The look on his face is entirely dazed and there’s something in his eyes that makes you feel sick, and then, whatever mask that is cracks. It falls to pieces and you’re met with the sight of your Gamzee. He’s soft around the edges and he looks <i>so fucking guilty</i>, but guilt cannot quell a rage built out of betrayal and before you know it you’re tackling the 6’6 clown with anger issues so bad he once sent a kid to the hospital.
</p><p>Gamzee hits the ground with a grunt and for a moment you seem to be good at wailing on him. He gives a few solid blocks but it’s nothing real. You’re barely paying attention to whatever is surrounding you, all you can hear is yourself shouting and the blood in your ears. You’re cussing, you know as much because your mouth always settles with cuss words if you just can’t bring yourself to really focus. Cussing is easy, you know it like your oldest friend, though you guess you don’t even really know him. You’re high off the power for a minute. For a minute you’re a strongest guy in the world, but that minute is more like five seconds for the people who aren’t living in some stupid kid’s fantasy because all too suddenly you’re being grabbed by hands that are big and strong and dangerous. Soon enough Gamzee’s face is twisted in a snarl so ugly you can barely recognize him. He slams your head so hard against the brick wall that you can feel your skull split open and your vision starts to swim. Apparently a small crowd has been drawn, and Gamzee grabs the collar of your hoodie and punches you square in the face, Your nose lets out a comically large spurt of blood. You would laugh if not for the fact that Gamzee seems entirely focused on beating the shit out of you. He hits hard, his bony knuckles stabbing into the soft flesh of your face over and over and over again. He’s pummeling the shit out of you, you know it. You can feel it in the way that your head and the rest of your face aches, how he holds you exactly in place as he absolutely fucks your shit up. It’s embarrassing, or it would be if not for the what you can only assume is a concussion setting in. 
</p><p>Everything hurts, your lip, your nose, your heart. You hold on to that pain, and you try to fight. Even while Gamzee keeps landing hit after hit on you, you swing. You don’t connect, at least, not the first time, but then you manage to land one right on that ever prominent cheekbone of his. He winces harder than he should, and the part of you that has always been and will always be his best friend worries, but right now you two aren’t best friends. No, right now you two are guys in a fight, a fight so bad that there is suddenly a sea of children surrounding you. 
</p><p>He throws you to the ground and straddles you, hitting whatever he can reach. He’s so so angry, his eyes are burning in a way you’ve never seen before, and yet, at the same time, you can see the tears, like he doesn’t want to be doing this. You don’t want to do this either, but like fuck you’ll lose to him.
</p><p>You grab Gamzee by the hair and pull as hard as you can, then, you slam his face right into the brick. He comes back almost as bloody as you are and twice as mad. It seems like somehow he was going easy on you before because now every hit packs an even greater impact. Every counterattack you take is met with a twist of your wrist and another hit. It all hurts endlessly, but you keep fighting. The rage inside of you refuses to die, not when you haven’t been faced with the opportunity to inflict swift retribution.
</p><p>Then, Gamzee is pulled off of you. His facepaint is tainted red with the blood leaking from his nose and mouth and a cut on his forehead that’s most likely from the brick. When you look at him you can’t believe that you were the one who caused that kind of damage and your adrenaline is pumping liquid stress right through your veins. It hurts still, of course it hurts, but it hurting is different from what you know is coming. 
</p><p>It’s a teacher who pulled Gamzee off of you, your history teacher, Jack. He’s an okay guy, you guess, you trust him more than your friends do. 
</p><p>The problem with Jack though, is that he doesn’t seem to have the foresight to understand sticking you with the guy who just kicked your ass while in the nurse’s office is the stupidest fucking idea since using a rock as a washcloth. You try to point it out to him, remind him that you two could kill each other in here, but he doesn’t seem interested in the least. 
</p><p>So you end up sitting there. 
</p><p>More than a foot away from each other and covered in blood. Gamzee isn’t wearing his hoodie anymore, instead he's using it to cover up the ice pack Jack gave him. You can see old bruises on him, flowering shades of red and old yellow-purples that remind you of vomit. Gamzee doesn’t seem to notice you staring, or maybe he’s making it a point to not say a word. Maybe, for once, he’s chosen to do some contemplating. 
</p><p>So you keep sitting there, and you ache to know where the nurse is as the adrenaline in your system wears off. 
</p><p>Your face hurts no matter where you put the ice pack. Everything hurts all over and all you can do is breathe through a mouth that tastes like it’s full of pennies and a tongue that throbs every second because you bit it during the fight. 
</p><p>Gamzee’s dad is going to fucking kill him for this.
</p><p>”I’m real sorry bro.”
</p><p>It cuts through the silence so sharp that it could have split a stone. 
</p><p>”Huh?”
</p><p>It’s all you can think to say despite the fact that you have a million other things on your mind. Like why. Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why <i>now</i>? Why after all of this? Why did you do it in the first place? Why are you apologizing? You want to ask him, and you nearly do, right until Gamzee starts speaking again. 
</p><p>”I don’t know how things all motherfuckin got like this….with Lawsis, I mean. It wasn’t supposed to take this kind of wicked turn, I swear. I don’t even like the bi-she ain’t really a motherfucker’s type. I’m sorry Karbro. I’m so motherfucking sorry. I have been a most wicked brother.”
</p><p>You’re left stunned, especially so as you watch the way Gamzee curls in on himself. He looks so small despite the fact that you understand how easily he towers over you, and yet there’s something about seeing him curled into the fetal position on that cot that makes you remember that Gamzee is still sort of your best friend, maybe. 
</p><p>”I-”
</p><p>”I wish that I could take all that mirthless shit I did back bro. A motherfucker doesn’t even know why all this got up and started. It just slipped away through my fingers and all that, like motherfucking sand on a beach&gt;”
</p><p>His voice is wet with tears and you hate him for them. You hate how open he’s being and how easily he’s letting you in on all of this and you hate even more how you’re moving closer toward his cot. You don’t actually want to fight with him anymore, you realize. The adrenaline is letting up more and your lip is throbbing and you’re sure it’s gonna be a bitch to talk for the next few days, but you don’t want to fight with your best friend anymore.
</p><p>Then you’re crying. 
</p><p>You sit down next to him properly and he almost immediately throws an arm around your shoulder.
</p><p>”What the fuck is wrong with you, you stupid idiot of a fucking clown. Is your head shoved so far up your own ass that you didn’t realize how much she meant to me-means to me?How much you mean to me?”
</p><p>”I know bro...I know..”
</p><p>”You’re a shitty friend, you know that?”
</p><p>”Motherfucker has spent a lot of time thinking on it actually,”
</p><p>”Oh? Have you? Then why? Why did you start it in the first place?”
</p><p>”If you want an honest motherfuckin answer, I don’t know. Ever since Lawsis and Spiderbitch stopped getting their hang on there’s just been something between she and I. Didn’t realize what it was until we started committing ourselves to those most dark motherfucking ministrations.”
</p><p>You don’t know what you expected to hear, but when you look at Gamzee you know he’s telling you the truth. His face is wet with tears too and all you want is to bury your face into that spindly body of his and let it out together, but you have to get through this, get over this. 
</p><p>”I’m sorry bro…”
</p><p>”I know,”
</p><p>You give in all too easily, pressing your body as close as physically possible. Gamzee holds you back and you take in his smell, all sticky sweet Faygo and old churches. He’s back home, obviously. You miss when he smelled like that strange earthy incense he was always burning in his van. You miss when things between the two of you were normal. You miss when all of your friends were normal instead of awful people or going through awful things. 
</p><p>You squeeze Gamzee tighter and the both of you wince. 
</p><p>He’s the one to lean down, pushing your hair out of your face and getting a real good look at you. He stares long and hard, searching for something that you aren’t sure of. You open your mouth, a “what the hell are you doing” right on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t. All too suddenly your mouth is busy, busy being full of the taste of greasepaint and blood and pain. It hurts to kiss Gamzee, hurts in ways that are divine and dreadful. It hurts kissing Gamzee in the way that it hurts to love him, hurts to see him when he’s kicked when he’s already down or when his dad gets some sort of extra tight hold on him that always ends with him being choked. It hurts to love someone who you know doesn’t see an out. It hurts to kiss Gamzee because it hurts to love him as much as you do. 
</p><p>You love Gamzee and you love Terezi and all you want is a sense of peace. 
</p><p>You’ve loved Terezi since you were twelve and loved Gamzee since before you were even born. 
</p><p>What the fuck is even up with that?
</p><p>His hand brushes your side and you flinch, pushing him away as quickly as he leaned in. you stare at each other for seconds at a time, trapped in each other’s gazes like it’s some sort of hypnosis. Kissing Gamzee Makara sort of feels like dying, in its own wonderfully awful way. You want to say something to him, try to convey everything that’s going through the shitty brain that offers you nothing but metaphors and romantic ways to continue on from here, but this isn’t a romance movie, and there are still problems between the two of you. Wounds left to fester and all that. Then the nurse comes in, and she looks at both of you gravely. 
</p><p>”Mr. Makara, after we get you cleaned up you’ll be leaving with your father in the front office. Mr. Vantas, the Vice Principal will be seeing you.”
</p><p>The way Gamzee’s face falls hurts you, kills you a thousand times over. You want to apologize, you want to tell him that you didn’t mean for his father to end up getting involved in all of this, but instead of saying any of that, you just wince a little bit harder. Today is not your day for saying what you want, huh coward? He puts his hoodie back on as quickly as he can and the nurse doesn’t remark about his arms. Instead, she just cleans him up. You know that he’s going to stop in the first floor boys’ room to wipe off the make up he’s been wearing. He used to do it all the time before he had his own car, and now he’s gotta do it again. 
</p><p>Gamzee smiles at you before he goes, and you hold in the thousands of things you wish you could say. 
</p><p>He’s your Gamzee, and he’s not. It’s like the start of that same morning. You remember the way Gamzee shook you out of your sleeping bag and told you that it was time for breakfast. He was so excited, sharing his fruity pebbles with you and sneaking on one of the few shows he was allowed to watch. It was some episode of VeggieTales, you don’t know which, but Gamzee knew all the words to the songs they sang in the episode. He bounced and whispered quiet jokes to you in the early hours of the morning, and then you helped with the dishes. His brother and his father were none the wiser to your escapades, and though Gamzee was just as scared of his father then, there was an innocence to it all. He was just another little boy, happy and smiling and joyful.
</p><p>He’s your best friend.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi kudos, comments, etc are greatly appreciated and there is a 99% chance that if you comment I'll reply.</p><p>@tamyura__on twt<br/>@porcelain.babies on insta</p></blockquote></div></div>
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